On a Park Bench
by Apollaskywalker
Summary: "Sam, I think I just spoke to God." Set anywhere after 8x19


Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable.

On a Park Bench

Dean folded the newspaper and set it beside him on the bench. The fresh roasted scent of his coffee enticed him into a sip. The hot liquid seared one or two taste buds, but who cared? This was real coffee, not some sorry excuse boiled in a microwave at a gas station or instant – this was good coffee. Simple pleasures, sometimes they were all one had in life.

The kids on the playscape yelled and laughed while Dean drank coffee and checked his phone. Sam had gone to the computer store for a replacement battery and Dean had decided to "look for a job" – really, he just wanted a chance to relax. Few would notice him at the park.

"This seat taken?" Dean looked over to see a woman in her mid to late thirties. She was strikingly beautiful, but plain at the same time. Her nondescript brown hair curled around her heart shaped face. She wore sunglasses, so he couldn't see her eyes. A light yellow lace eyelet dress hugged her in the right spots, a casual summer dress. He slid over and gave her a smile. He told her it wasn't and she sat down next to him. An odd sound filled Dean's ears, singing – but no one around them was singing. He ignored it, there were children playing. "Come here often?" she asked, placing a book on her lap. Dean looked at the title: _The Grand Inquisitor_. He didn't think they'd made a movie about that one and he hadn't read it. He spotted the author's name and realized why. Dostoevsky's books were usually too damn long. This book looked small, though, maybe he would give it a try.

"No, not really," Dean shrugged, "just passing through. You?"

"I come to watch my children," she looked over at the playground, a sad smile on her beautiful face. "So distant, and yet ever so close."

"I take it you don't have custody," Dean ventured gently. Divorced, must be, which was good for him if he decided to make a move – but then it wasn't. Divorce could be tricky, especially if the ex was bitter over it. Kids complicated matters, which was why he tried to avoid moms for his one-night stands. However, the older he got, the more difficult it became to find women without kids.

She looked at him, with the same sad smile. "That's a difficult topic, it's pending, always in process, no final answer. But that's enough about that…are you happy?"

"What?" Her question took him by surprise. It was a strange question to be asked out of the blue. That kind of question was asked by therapists or people who were about to offer advice after they'd known you for a while. Not a question for a complete and total stranger.

"It's a simple question. Are you happy? If you hesitate, the answer is no. Yet I ask you, what do you have to be unhappy about?"

Dean stared at her. "Christo," he whispered.

The woman smiled, "I'm not a demon, Dean. The very opposite." She placed the book on the bench between them. A barrier between the supernatural and the natural. He was grateful.

"Naomi."

"No, not an angel either," the woman put her hand on Dean's and watched him. "You came to watch the children play because it's something you want. The innocence. See that boy there? Every night he goes home to a broken family, torn apart by alcoholism. See that girl? She's going to fall in love with that boy –"

"Who are you? What are you?"

"Dean, you're missing the point. You wanted free will; you used your free will to keep your free will. But it comes with a price, choose poorly and bad things happen, but not always to you. We are all connected."

"Yeah, I get the whole 'Circle of Life' thing, Rafiki, what's your point?" Dean's tone became hostile.

"Simple: choice cannot exist without there being the risk of failure. I'm answering a question you've harbored deep in your heart since you were four. Why do bad things happen to good people?" She moved her hand from his hand to his heart. "Let me ease your burden, Dean, let me take some of that weight from your shoulders. '_In my Father's house there are many mansions, I have gone to prepare a place for you_.'" She kissed his cheek.

Dean glared at her when she pulled away. "So you're a Bible toting philosopher, huh? Well tell me this, where was God during the apocalypse? Where was God when the Leviathans tried to take over the world? When Eve came topside? When demons –" he stopped talking as a couple walked past them, giggling with each other and looking every bit like the cover models of a romance novel for teenagers.

The woman sighed. "When you were young, your father took you to a restaurant. One of many, of course, but here they had these peppers that were too spicy for you to handle, but you wanted one, so you begged to try one. Your father tried to dissuade you, but you would not be moved. So he let you try it. You had tears streaming down your face; you drank everyone's water glass dry until the waitress brought you a cup of milk to ease the sting. Did your father love you?"

"Of course," Dean replied tersely.

"Exactly." She stood up. "Your brother's coming and my real reason for stopping was to give you this," she hooked her fingers around a leather strand and removed her necklace. It wasn't hers, Dean recognized it. It had been his, but he'd thrown it away. Sam had given it to him. She held it out to him; "There's a job two counties over, water wraith."

He took the amulet from her and then looked up to find Sam. "Sam?" he asked. The singing he had heard earlier stopped.

"Hey, computer's fixed – what's wrong? You look –"

"When did you get here?"

"Just now," Sam responded, puzzled. "What happened?"

"I –" he stopped and looked at the amulet in his hand. It was warm – too warm, but the warmth was fading. "Sam, I think I just spoke to God."

"What, you were praying?"

"No, I mean I was speaking with God. The real God," he held up his amulet. "And…evidently, God's a hot chick."

Sam frowned, "Dude…you been drinking?" He picked up The Grand Inquisitor, the copy God had left behind. "This is a good story, they actually included this in _The X-Files_."

Dean ignored him, focused on the hot amulet. It had cooled off enough that he could put it back on. He put the necklace around his neck and felt a wave of peace pass over him, as if part of him had been missing and been returned.

Author's Note: The singing Dean hears is actually the rocks, not the children. (Luke 19:40)


End file.
